


Salt and Pepper

by caliginousfay



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pining, Vignettes, more tags to come
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 00:55:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16713445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caliginousfay/pseuds/caliginousfay
Summary: Over the years, strands of white and grey begin to appear in Ignis's hair. Prompto can't help himself with finding it alluring.An exploration in fascination with the aesthetic results of stress, trauma, and age.





	Salt and Pepper

**Author's Note:**

> this was originally going to be my entry for the (now canceled) salt and pepper promnis zine, so i figured i'd post it here so it wouldn't be lost to the sands of time. 
> 
> not beta-ed as usual so just ignore any editing mishaps and mistakes. unless they're major.
> 
> also i promise i'm still working on high noon.

It was a usual Saturday, the same as many others had been in the past few years since Prompto had finally gathered the courage to speak to the crown prince. He sat, more like sprawled, atop the plush, way-more-expensive-than-anything-he-owned couch in Noctis’s apartment with a controller in his hand, brows drawn together in concentration as he stared at the latest video game he and Noct were determined to conquer this weekend. He might have also been doing his absolute hardest to ignore the presence of Ignis in the kitchen. Not that he didn't like Ignis, more so the opposite. If he didn't pointedly focus on keeping his eyes anywhere else, they had a tendency of wandering until he eventually realized he had been staring for way longer than platonically appropriate at the adviser. But it was fine because Prompto had plenty of self-control. In fact, there was no one more in control of their impulses that Prompto “Iron Will” Argentum. At least, that’s what he was desperately telling himself in his ever failing attempts to actually live up to it. 

Prompto had already passed the point of lying to himself about this definitely just being another temporary thing, his crush flavor of the week. He had held onto that hope fiercely the first month after realizing oh shit he definitely had a thing for his best friend’s basically butler. And then the second month after he still told himself that he would get over it, it was just taking a little longer. It was no big deal. But after the third, then fourth, and consequently fifth and sixth months, it was getting to the point that he couldn’t even muster up the effort to lie about it to himself anymore. He was doomed. Doomed and way too in over his head when it came to Ignis Scientia. He thought he’d had it bad for all the many people before, but if that was bad then this was terminal. Ignis Scientia was unknowingly going to be the death of him and Prompto couldn’t even find it in himself to care. 

Unfortunately for him, his whole plan to simply ignore the other man was, as usual, failing spectacularly. His character took a nose dive off the cliff after failing to block a clearly telegraphed enemy move. And yet, Prompto didn’t notice until Noctis was leaning over to pull the controller out of his hands to take his turn at it. He was much too distracted by the barely there melody he heard Ignis humming quietly to himself as he worked away in the kitchen. And really, who could blame him for getting caught up in it? It was such a simple little quirk, but to Prompto it was another piece to completing the great puzzle of Ignis Scientia. Maybe it was just entirely too endearing, as well, to hear how Ignis was whisked away to his own world as he strove once more to try and perfect recreating the dessert that had probably seen a thousand different iterations just in the time that Prompto had known Noctis. 

And of course, as soon as that part of the plan failed, the rest shortly followed as his eyes strayed to watch Ignis bustle about in the kitchen. Honestly, Prompto could probably watch him cook forever. He always seemed so zen when he was in the kitchen, completely in his element as he whipped up delicious dish after delicious dish. As if it wasn’t abundantly clear just how bad he had it, Prompto could always count on finding a soft smile on his lips as a direct result of watching Ignis cook. He really should be better at keeping his reactions in check, but it was simply another thing he’d mostly given up on, especially after the few times Ignis had caught him looking and gave his own small smile back. Without fail, Prompto’s face would flush bright red and his heart would thump painfully in his chest in such circumstances. As torturous as it could be at times, Prompto loved it, loved how intensely every little thing hit him. He loved how real this was, even though he should be trying to kick it instead of letting it grow unchecked. 

What could he say? He was a hopeless romantic at heart. 

Glancing back over at Noctis, he couldn’t ignore the way the prince rolled his eyes at his obvious pining. With a half shrug and a little grin, Prompto hopped up from the couch and sauntered his way into the kitchen to lean against the bar and watch Ignis even closer. 

Eyes glued on Ignis, Prompto folded his arms on the counter top and rested his chin on his forearms, completely unabashed in the way he admired Ignis working away. “Hey, Iggy,” he called out, “whatcha makin’?” 

“Hello, Prompto,” Ignis answered in what had become their customary way at this point. “I’m attempting to make the Tenebraean pastries once again. I’m using more honey this time in addition to the ulwaat berries. Simply continuing on in the seemingly never-ending quest to recreate a recipe I have never encountered personally.” With a small pause, he shot Prompto a smile and looked over to Noctis, “Anything for His Sleepy Highness.” 

Prompto couldn’t stop his grin from growing wider and his cheeks from flushing at the direct exposure to Ignis’s soft smile. He nearly managed to not avert his eyes but inevitably failed as his cheeks burned even hotter. It was truly a wonder that Ignis had yet to call him out on his crush, knowing just how obvious it was. Prompto guessed he should be thankful for it. At least he didn’t have to face any pitying looks or the gentle rejection he knows Iggy would let him down with. 

“Well,” Prompto managed to get out after trying to will his blush away, “I’m more than happy to taste test for you, even though I don’t know what they’re supposed to taste like. I’m sure they’ll be delicious as always. Everything you make is.” He might have been babbling, but that was nothing new. His compliments for Ignis’s cooking were plentiful. 

“Of course,” Ignis replied with another of his indulgent smiles that warmed Prompto’s heart. “You may have the first tart as soon as they’ve cooled.” 

And in return, Ignis was rewarded with one of Prompto’s bright grins. He was only too happy to bask in whatever attention Ignis granted him. 

With that handled, Prompto was more than content to sit there quietly and simply observe Ignis at work, at least until Ignis raised an arm to wipe away sweat at his brow. A small spot of white was left behind in the advisor’s hair. Completely unprompted, Prompto’s brain took him on a wild ride into a daydream of Ignis years from now with proper grey streaks through his hair; salt and pepper at its best. Prompto had no doubts that Ignis would be beautiful, a proper silver fox. Then again, he couldn’t imagine a world where Ignis wasn’t beautiful. 

“Hey, Ig,” he called out softly, feet already pushing him upwards to lean over the counter, hand moving toward the spot that had caught his eye. Ignis looked up and froze as Prompto moved ever nearer. If Prompto didn’t know any better, he’d say there was anticipation in his eyes, maybe a bit of hope as he pulled in a breath. Gently, he wiped away the flour caught in Ignis’s hair and smiled as he moved back away. 

“You had a little bit of flour in your hair,” he explained as he settled back down. And for a moment, Ignis was quiet, still staring at him from across the counter. Was that disappointment flickering across his face? Prompto would never know with how quickly Ignis schooled his expression back into careful neutrality. 

“Oh, thank you, Prompto. I’ll have to be sure to wipe my hands off in the future.” And then the small smile was back and stayed in place. The little moment of weirdness was wiped away just as easily as the errant flour, leaving hazy warmth of domesticity behind. 

The image of the daydream struck with Prompto for the rest of the day and further beyond than he would ever admit. 


End file.
